The End Where I Begin
by GreenLoki
Summary: After suffering through a traumatic event, Loki Odinson knows that it is time for a change. Transferring to a new school with his brother, Loki must learn how to move on from the nightmares that now plague him, fight the troubles that are attracted to him like metal to a magnet, and come to realize that actually needed someone isn't as bad as it seems. AU. High-school.
1. A New Beginning

_** Yes. I know I'm crazy for doing this again. Yet another idea that refused to let me go. Please let know what you think! All opinions and criticisms are greatly appreciated. **_

_** And thanks **__GodsOfMischiefIntellectArts __**for helping me bounce ideas off of you. We're definitely going to keep doing that! Love you, girl!  
**_

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**CHAPTER ONE  
**A New Beginning

Outside was cold and uninviting. The wind blew harshly against the window, making the glass creak and moan slightly in protest. Emerald green eyes stared out into the grey world, his mind in another place – a place full of pain and anguish, a place where he couldn't seem to escape, no matter how hard he tried. His messenger bag lay beside him on the bed, his heavy jacket resting beside that. Any minute now Thor would come into the room, telling him that it was time to go to their new school. It was his choice to go so soon, and even though Loki Odinson knew that it was for his own good, the place still frightened him, still sent a jolt of fear coursing throughout his entire body, paralyzing him. He was used to it, though. Being trapped in such fear was becoming the norm for Loki, the trauma of what happened to him not long ago still weighing heavily on his shoulders, preventing him from moving, preventing him from even breathing.

He was expecting it, but that did nothing to stop his heart from catching in his throat, his emerald green eyes widening as they found the door. The knock was soft, cautious, but Loki still gasped and jumped to his feet, a world of pain crashing around him, but the adrenaline that was now pumping throughout him dimmed most of it. The door opened and Thor poked his head into the room, his sparkly blue eyes softening at the side of his brother. Smiling sadly, the much larger brother slowly came into the room and walked over to Loki and gently pulled him into his arms, his hand running up and down his back, hoping that the gesture would calm his terrified sibling.

"Forgive me, brother," Thor murmured quietly, his head resting against the top of Loki's. "I did not mean to frighten you."

It took several minutes for his heart to stop pounding, for the adrenaline to cease. He realized how tightly he was holding onto his brother, how his pale white fists clung to the fabric of Thor's shirt, his knuckles aching at the grip. Slowly, Loki started to relax, his muscles slowly loosening up.

"It's alright," Loki finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, but Thor was always able to catch what his brother said. "It was no fault of yours."

It wasn't a lie, but Thor didn't believe his words. Loki didn't hate Thor, but Thor hated himself for not being able to protect Loki when he needed him the most. He was there, but just out of reach, unable to stretch the distance between them to take hold of his brother, to wrap him in his arms and shield him from the danger that was threatening to tear him apart. Thor didn't make it, though, and he was forced to wait till the bitter end to pick up what was left of Loki.

Pulling away just slightly – just enough to see the dim emeralds in Loki's eyes – Thor gave a small smile, his hand coming up to brush his brother's black hair out of his face. "Regardless, I shall have to be more careful next time," Taking in Loki's appearance – the bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the colour that lacked in his eyes – the smile slowly fell from his face, his own sparkling blue eyes drowning in what could only be discerned as worry and concern. "Brother, you do not have to do this now. You have not healed yet. I beg of you, give it more time."

"I cannot sit around, Thor. You know this. If I sit around and do nothing then I will be unable to escape the thoughts that plague my mind," Sighing, Loki forced himself to move away from the protective embrace. Busying himself, Loki picked up the heavy jacket and put it on over his dark green, long-sleeved shirt. "This has to happen, anyway. It is for the best that we get it over with now."

Thor looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he pressed his lips tightly together, and nodded his head, walking back over to the door. Holding it open, he waited until Loki walked past him before letting out a sigh of his own, closing the door gently behind him. Following Loki down the steps, Thor went into the living room and grabbed his bag, which was sitting against the couch on the floor, and swung it over his shoulder. Just as he and Loki were getting ready to walk out the door, their parents, Odin and Frigga, walked out from the kitchen, both with worried expressions on their faces.

Frigga was the first one to approach Loki, her stance weary as she got closer. Giving her a soft smile, Loki closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his mother, her arms quickly engulfing her son's frail body. She let out a shaky breath, a drop of liquid escaping her closed eyes, leaving a trail down her cheek. Frigga Odinson was a strong woman. It took a lot to shake her, but after what happened to her youngest son, the worried mother was shaken to the very core. She wasn't prepared for what had happened, and she was struggling to maintain her composure.

"You know you can stay home with me for a while longer, don't you, my Loki?" Frigga questioned quietly. She pulled away a bit so she could take in her son's appearance, her heart dropping at just how small her baby looked. "You don't have to go back to school now. You can take as long as you need to recover."

"I know, mother," Loki said, forcing a smile on his face, hoping that – for once – she wouldn't be able to see past the façade. "I can't hide. I'll need the distraction anyway. You know how I get when I'm cooped up in one place for too long," Lifting up the left corner of his lip, Loki tried for his patent smirk, but the look his mother sent him only showed that she could see through his mask. .

She sighed and pulled Loki back into her arms, squeezing him gently, hating the fact that she needed to let him go. Oh, how she wanted to keep him in her arms, to protect him from such a cruel world that showered him with such a lack of luck. She kissed the top of his head and gave him a sad smile, though her eyes filled with confidence. "You'll be fine, stay strong, my Loki. I love you."

"I love you, too, mother."

Odin was last, and his once sharp gaze was forever altered into one of gratifying worry. Loki was mostly at ease around his family, so it didn't jostle him when his father stepped up, took hold of his shoulders, and pulled him against him, his huge arms – arms that were even bigger than Thor's – wrapped tightly around his youngest son. Closing his eyes, burying his face in his father's shoulder, Loki let out a shaky breath. As much as he needed his parents and brother, Loki wished that they would ease up on him. He didn't die. He was still there, and even though they had every right to coddle and fuss over him, the fact that they wouldn't stop only seemed to remind him of why they were doing it in the first place, and that merely kept him in place, unable to get past what had happened.

"He can't hurt you anymore, my son. He's gone and you still remain," Odin whispered into Loki's hair. "Know that you are safe."

Instinctively, Loki stiffened, the grip he had on his father increasing at the thought of _him_. A shiver ran down his spine, and he was grateful when his father started to rub a hand soothingly up and down his back, warming the chill that seemed to settle in his bones. Odin was right – _he_ was gone and _he_ wasn't going to hurt him anymore. It was the truth, but believing it to be true was the toughest part of it all.

After a moment, Loki nodded his head and pulled away. This needed to happen. He had hid from what happened for two weeks, two long, horrifying weeks with nothing to occupy his time other than the nightmare of a memory. It was time to leave the memory behind him, to trudge forward, no matter how difficult it would be, and get on with his life. He couldn't let that day two weeks ago define him. He refused to remain broken. With the help of his family, Loki would put the pieces together and become whole again.

"We'll see you at three o'clock then," Loki said, taking a deep breath. He nodded his head, as though confirming this for himself, before he allowed Thor to lead him out the door, a comforting hand on his back.

If it killed him, Loki was going to make it through the day without breaking down.

* * *

"I hate Wednesdays," Tony Stark said as he shuffled through the school paper. He sighed and turned the page. "I mean, Monday is hard enough, Tuesdays get a bit better, but not by much, and then you get to Wednesday, and it's like you're stuck. You are tortured for two days then you get to this damn day and realize that you're about to get tortured for another two days."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you told us the same thing a few minutes ago, but in another version," Bruce Banner interjected. Though he was speaking to Tony, his eyes were glued to his chemistry book, his dark brown eyes moving left to right in a quick manner.

Narrowing his eyes good naturedly, Tony continued on as though Bruce said nothing at all. Even though he wasn't anywhere close to being a morning person, Tony Stark had his fill of coffee and was cranked and ready to go for the day. "Clint!"

"Yeah, man?" Said man looked over from his girlfriend and smirked at his best friend. Clint Barton was the only one out of Tony's little group of friends that really seemed to get his humour. Not to mention the man could throw in a bit of sarcasm of his own – one of the reasons why they worked so well together.

"You know I love you in a non-gay sort of way – see what I did there? I totally rhymed! – But this is the last time I allow you to ditch me. I cannot just sit back and watch willingly as you flirt with Natasha. I have feelings, too, man, and you are just breaking my heart here. I thought I meant more to you than that," He knew he was really pushing it, but that was just the kind of person Tony was. What fun was it to just play it safe? Besides, knowing Clint Barton, the man would probably just roll his eyes and say something snarky back at Stark.

"First of all, you need to know the difference between being 'stood up' and 'ditched'. When you're stood up, the person doesn't call to tell you that they aren't coming. Ditching, what I did to you, was calling you several hours before we were supposed to meet up to inform you that I couldn't make it," Clint said, a smirk starting to form on his face. His stormy blue-grey eyes glistened brightly, even though the morning was ever so cloudy. "Secondly, we'll have to talk about those feelings later on in the locker room, if you know what I'm saying," And just to emphasize his 'point', Clint winked.

"Seventh period, please get here soon," Tony groaned playfully, earning a laugh from Clint and, shockingly, from his girlfriend, Natasha, as well. Even from that angle, Stark could tell that Bruce himself was trying to keep his amused smirk hidden. "Oh, hey, have you guys seen the new kids today?"

"Please don't tell me you're going to do something."

Stark was wondering when he would get a word out of Steve. Standing at an even six-foot tall, Steve Rogers was obviously the most built man in their little group. With a set of cerulean eyes and a charming face, the Captain of the football team had a strict sense of moral codes that was so unlike the present time. As the leader of their little group, Steve took responsibility of making sure everyone was in line – or that was basically just for Tony. Stark had this amazing ability of driving people up the wall, ready to punch his face in, but Rogers was pretty good at, at least _containing_ Stark before anything serious could happen. And by that, it usually meant before anyone got their hands on Tony and ripped his head off his very shoulders. But even then, people knew who Stark's father was and channeled their anger through other outlets. Regardless, Steve was always hard on Tony and lecturing the man was his favourite thing to do.

"Do something to them? Why on earth would I ever want to do anything to the new kids in school?" With an innocent smile plastered across his face, Tony couldn't help but snicker at the long sigh that followed.

A very familiar look crossed Rogers' face, and Tony quickly grabbed his books, tossed a 'see you guys later', and made his way to the front doors of Midgard High. The last thing Tony Stark needed was to get a lecture from his old-school friend – not at seven in the morning. Of course, escaping that meant he had thirty minutes before the first bell singled their immediate attendance in Home Room. Which left him wondering what to do … or he was until he turned the corner and headed for the front of the school, only to stop immediately when he saw two tall figures – figures he hadn't seen before – slowly making their way down the sidewalk, heading in the same direction was Tony.

As cliché and as sappy as it sounded – it definitely did later on in his head when he thought back on it – the first thing that Tony noticed was the eyes. Ignoring the huge, broad, scary tall guy beside him, it was the emerald green colour that stopped Stark right in his tracks. It was the way they seemed to glow and sparkle in the overcast of clouds that stilled any movements from the self-proclaimed Genius/Billionaire/Playboy/Philanthropist. After the eyes followed the paleness of his skin, the way it seemed to shine. The black hair that fell slightly over his shoulders and looked edgy at the tips seemed to fit him perfectly.

The school had talked about these two joining Midgard High, though they had absolutely no idea when they would decide to show up. The entire population knew what had happened and why they were joining, had been drilled for the past week and a half about the dos and don'ts when it came to the emerald green eyed kid, and after a second look, after looking past the attraction and sudden intrigue, Tony Stark could see the fear imbedded in those eyes, though he could tell that the kid was putting up a very impressive front to shield that emotion.

The taller one – the over-protective brother – stopped walking and positioned himself a bit closer to his brother, leaning down and whispering something in his ear. Stark had absolutely no idea what was being said, but he had a feeling – the worry in his eyes couldn't be masked – that he was trying to convince the emerald green eyed kid to go back home for just a little while longer. A quick shake of the head and a look of determination crossed the kid's face, and he whispered something back to his brother before nudging at his arm to proceed forward.

The walk up to the front of the school was nerve-wracking to watch, Tony could only imagine how it must have been for the two newcomers, who had silenced everyone who was standing around outside – which was half the freaking class population. He could see the older brother moving in even closer to the smaller kid, though he didn't really seem to notice, and even if he did, he elected to ignore it. Instead, he met every gaze he could as he slowly walked past, inching his way closer and closer to the front doors.

Just like that, it was over. Everyone standing around remained silent for a few short moments before erupting into a hum of whispers, their eyes casting looks at the door the two newcomers had just emerge into. Furrowing his brow, Tony shook himself out of whatever state of mind he fell into and slowly started making his way up the steps to the front doors. One thing was for certain, no matter how confused he just became, things had definitely got interesting.

* * *

His heart was pounding a million miles a minute when he and Thor came into view of the front doors of Midgard High. With so many unknown faces turning and directing their attention onto him, he had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. He felt an urge to find a rock and crawl under it, to hide, to do anything to get out of sight of their prying eyes. The look they gave him sent a sharp pain slamming into him, knocking the air right out of his lungs, leaving him completely breathless. Without him having to say one single word, recognition flitted across their faces. They knew exactly who he was. How they knew it was him and not his brother, Thor, he didn't know, but they stared at him with a look in their eyes that was a mixture of pity, shock, and … was that judgment? It was like they were sizing him up as he slowly walked past them, trying to sense if he were a threat.

Loki wouldn't, no matter how utterly terrified he was, let them get to him as such. He didn't deserve their looks of pity and sympathy. He got enough of that at home; the last thing he wanted was for complete strangers to give him the same courtesy. Instead, taking a deep breath, Loki raised his chin high and started making his way towards the front door, Thor directly beside him, his huge arm brushing against his thinner one. Of course, just as he was getting into his act, a gentle, yet firm hand gripped at his wrist, pulling him to a stop, and before he could question what was going on, Thor leaned closer over.

"Brother, we do not have to do this if you are feeling uncomfortable," He'd obviously sensed the mini-attack right a few seconds before. As much as Loki would like to think that Thor was a complete fool and blind to what was going on around him, he couldn't help but grow irritated at how astute he was when it came to his little brother. It was sometimes impossible to get away with anything when Thor had such a watchful eye over him. "I do not want wish to see you in such an uncomfortable state."

"I need to get over this, Thor. This cannot wait."

He wanted to fight. Oh, Thor wanted to argue with that until he was blue in the face, but he knew how stubborn Loki was, and he knew that no matter what he said, nothing would get past Loki's decision. His brother was determined and strong and … so far in denial. It was too soon. Two weeks wasn't enough time to recover from something like _that_. The wound was still fresh, still deep. Nothing he said would make a difference, though, so Thor sighed quietly and nodded his head, slowly releasing the grip he had on Loki's wrist.

"Very well, brother."

Taking a deep breath, releasing it slowly though his nostrils, Loki continued walking on, Thor easily falling into step beside him. His face erased of all types of emotion, Loki made his way up the steps of Midgard High, meeting as many faces as he could as he got closer to his destination – much to his relief. Going inside the school was going to be just as hectic as outside, but the sooner he was in, the less likely the temptation to turn around and run back home would be. He _needed_ to get through this, _needed_ just an ounce of normalcy back into his life. And it was with those thoughts in mind that gave Loki the strength to walk inside the school with his head held high.

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_** I was going to add another part to this chapter, or at least prolong it a bit more, but I decided that I'd leave it as is. Please don't hate me when/if I don't update this story as quickly as I would like. I know it's so stupid to start yet another story, but I cannot help it right now. These blasted ideas will not stop attacking me. **_

_** Please review! **_

_** Oh! And if you are hockey fans, please go to **_Office Romance_**'s page and read her new story! It's brilliant! **_


	2. Midgard High

_**Thank you – **__xXshizayaXx__**, **__cara-tanaka__**, **__fan girl 666__**, **__GodsOfMischiefIntellectArts__**, **__Singer Salvage__**, and **__Anisney -Robin__** – for your wonderful reviews! They made me feel so great!**_

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**CHAPTER TWO  
**Midgard High

To think any of this would be easy was wishful thinking on Loki's part as he silently walked through the front door and down what appeared to be the hallway to the main office. It seemed as though his confidence only minutes prior was long since gone now. Emerald green eyes remained transfixed on the plain designs of the tiles on the floor and only when Thor nudged his arm did he finally look up, realizing that they were finally at their destination. While Asgard and its high school were well known for their simplicity and elegance, Midgard High was almost foreign to Thor and Loki, who looked around the main office in almost an awed state. Computers aligned against the walls; there was a woman who was talking away into an earpiece, her entire body straight, screaming out authority. But like all offices, there was a desk in the center of the room, and that was the desk Thor and Loki walked up to after a moment of just staring. A woman with glasses and a kind smile looked up when she felt them approach, her countenance turning into confusion as she did not recognize the two boys. But after a moment, recognition flitted across her face and she looked sympathetic.

"Good morning," Thor greeted when they finally stopped before the desk. "I am Thor Odinson and this is my brother, Loki. We have come from Asgard to attend your fine facility," If Thor was aware of her sad smiles towards Loki, he chose to ignore it. "We have been told to fetch our class schedules here. Might you have them?"

"I do, Thor," The woman nodded her head, tearing his gaze away from Loki – who, at that point, had been looking at everything in the office that wasn't her prying eyes – and started riffling through a stack of papers until she found one of them. "Here is yours," She said, handing it over to Thor. The woman continued to shuffle through some papers until she found the other one. Gaze turning back to Loki's, her eyes once again filling with sympathy, a sad smile crossing over her lips, she held out the other schedule. "Here you are, dear."

The compassion in her voice was nauseating and it was enough to even anger Loki to some extremes. He was there for a fresh start, not to be constantly reminded about what had happened to him back in Asgard. New school, new friends – hopefully – new everything, that was his goal. After giving the woman a small, tight smile – after all, she was only being nice – Loki took the slip from her, gave quick thanks, and hurriedly left the office. Thor joined him a moment later and the two brothers exchanged schedules.

"We do not share a class this semester, brother," Thor said his voice a bit sad and disappointed.

For a moment, Loki was silent, his emerald green eyes going from his schedule to Thor's, which he still held in his hands. The more dominant part of his brain was actually pleased that the two brothers didn't share a class, because it would force him to interact and pretend that nothing had happened to him. That was the goal – move on and push this unwanted nightmare to the back of his mind. The other part of his brain, the childish, frightened part, was absolutely terrified of the fact, because that meant – in the case of something happening – Loki would have no one to keep him safe. And that fact alone left him annoyed, because he didn't _need_ Thor. Memories from the past, when they were simply two little boys who were best friends doing everything together, slipped to the forefront of his mind, and he momentarily relished in the warmth that those memories brought. Back then, it was only natural for Loki to run into Thor's room late at night and jump into his bed when he was afraid. It was only natural when Thor snuck into his room late at night with two cups of pudding and a huge smile on his face. Thor and Loki did everything together when they were kids, and a part of Loki was ashamed that they had drifted apart since then.

"We will have lunch together," Loki said his voice even. And though his voice was his normal tone, Loki glanced at a clock on a nearby wall, counting down the hours until he would be in his brother's presence again. It was that childish need that pulled at the younger brother. _It's only because of everything that's happened_, Loki thought to himself. "There is a café not far from the school. We should have plenty of time to walk over and grab a bite before we must be present again."

His response was a warm smile from Thor, one he gladly returned, and in that small moment, Loki actually felt like things were slowly going back to the ways they were. Placing a hand on the back of his neck, Thor gave him a comforting squeeze before leaning closer, pressing his forehead against Loki's. "If you need me at all, call for me, brother. I will find you."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Loki closed his eyes and nodded his head, not caring of who saw them in such a position. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but Loki was genuinely terrified of what could happen to him while he was on his own. Thor was comfort, and when he pressed a kiss to his forehead before taking his schedule and walking off, Loki felt himself desperate for that safe feeling. The past two weeks had been strange. Despite the shock and the numbness that had dominated most of his feelings, Loki had been prone to outbursts, those of which consisted of lashing out at his brother and father, snapping at his mother, concluding with him locking himself in his room, ignoring all pleads of coming out. And despite his mind telling him that he didn't want any sympathy or help, that he could and would take care of himself, that he would be the one to pull out of his misery, Loki found himself needing that comfort that Thor provided. He needed it, but he didn't want it, and he would continue to fight it until he hadn't the strength to say no any longer.

It was a confusing thought, and Loki pondered over it as he headed in what he hoped was the direction to his Homeroom. It was upstairs, so after a few panicked minutes, Loki finally located a staircase and proceeded up, emerald eyes searching for Room 201, as well as a clock on the wall. One thing that had never changed – Loki hated being late. He would much rather be several minutes early than beating the bell by a few seconds. It was luck when Loki walked a bit down the corridor before finding the desired room on the right hand side. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Loki edged closer to the door and peered inside, thankful to see a few people already inside. And while some things concerning school hadn't changed, some had. Before the nightmare that happened two weeks ago, Loki had no problem being in a classroom on his own – in fact he reveled in being allowed access into a room while no one was around. It was one of the rare times during those seven hours that Loki was able to get to study in peace. Sometimes at home, Thor required all of his attention, and it was merely impossible for him to get anything done without being bothered by his brother. But as he stood there, his feet refusing to move just a fraction of an inch, Loki came to realize that he didn't want to step inside at all until there were more people present. After what happened … no – no, he would simply wait until there were at least fifteen people inside before venturing in.

Luck was yet again on his side, because no sooner had he moved away from the door and leaned against the opposite side of the wall, the bell rang, indicating to the student population that it was time for school to begin. It only took a few minutes for a crowd of students to flock around the hallways, and it wasn't long until Loki glanced back into the classroom and felt comfortable enough to venture inside. It didn't take him long to find a seat – a good lot of the students inside were sitting beside their friends, so that left a lot of room for Loki to find and grab a seat. But just as he was getting ready to drop his back and pull the seat out, an arm slipped through his, followed by another on the other side.

"You're the new kid right?" The girl asked, but didn't wait for him to answer as she and the other girl directed Loki to the back of the room where a small table, isolated from all the others, sat. "I'm Jane Foster and this is Darcy Lewis."

"We're your new best friends," The girl named Darcy said, a smile on her face. Both were friendly enough with brown eyes and brown hair, though Darcy's looked darker than Jane's. She also wore glasses and seemed to be the talker out of both of them. "We are going to be your eyes and ears of this place, leading you down the righteous path of the dos, the don'ts, and the definitely do nots."

"Your name is Loki, right?" Jane took over asking when they finally reached the table. The girls ushered Loki in while they took their places on either side of him. "The school has been going on and on about your arrival, but no one knew when you would get here."

"Hand over the schedule, Loki," Darcy once again started. She and Jane pulled out theirs and put them on the table in front of Loki. "Let's see if we're in the same classes."

And just like that, in those sixty minutes, Jane, Darcy, and Loki became the best of friends. And in those sixty minutes, Loki completely forgot about everything that had been plaguing his mind and running his every fear for the past fourteen days. Jane and Darcy were amazing company and they could banter back and forth for several minutes before turning to Loki and engaging him in conversation. Jane was sweet and kind, and was always rather positive about certain things, while Darcy seemed to be the exact opposite. She was sarcastic and she had an amazing sense of humour. But what Loki enjoyed most about the two girls was the fact that they not once asked about his past. He was sure they were curious about all that had happened – it had been broadcasted on the news and, even though Asgard was a fairly good distance from Midgard, the events that had transpired had been huge. They never asked, never questioned, and they treated Loki like he was an actual human being, not a fragile piece of glass that could break at any moment. Needless to say, Loki was rather disappointed when the bell for Homeroom rang. Thankfully, though, the three of them had English together, so they would only have to wait two hours before meeting up again. They promised to save him a seat as they departed.

* * *

Leaning against the lockers several ways down, Tony pulled his sunglasses down a bit, his chocolate brown eyes taking in the specimen that was Midgard High's newest student. It took Stark a total of three and a half hours to figure out where Loki's locker was located at – which was brilliant, because it was actually right beside Tony's – and an extra thirty minutes to figure out his first three classes. The only thing now to worry about was the right time to approach green eyes. Of course, with Tony Stark, the right time was any time he bloody well felt like it, which was why he pulled his sunglasses off, placed them on top of his head, and –

"What are you doing, Tony?"

– That really messed with his concentration. "Clint?" Tony blinked, tearing his eyes away from Loki Odinson and directing them at his best friend, who was standing in front of him with a disproving look on his face. And were those bags under his eyes? "Hey, man, what's going on? I wasn't going to do anything crazy. Nope, I wasn't."

"Cut the crap. Do you realize who you're talking to?" Clint rolled his eyes and stepped away from the middle of the hallway, not wanting to get in anyone's way. "Can you just be careful, Tony? Obviously I can't stop you from making a complete fool out of yourself, but don't do anything to cause problems. Have you seen his brother, man? I think I have my next class with him. He's huge and he'll definitely pummel you into the ground if you mess with his brother."

"And where is your support in me, my dear friend? I think I would be able to throw in a few decent shots to catch him off guard so I can make my get-away."

Clint shook his head and chuckled to himself before walking to the other side of the hallway to his locker. After cracking the combination lock, Clint opened the metal door and pulled out his Math book. Before the door closed, however, Tony happened to glance in and saw a First-Aid Kit resting on the bottom. Furrowing his brow, Tony made his way over and leaned against the lockers beside Clint's. It was no secret that Clint was the master had keeping secrets, even from his best friend, but sometimes …

"Are you okay, Clint?" Tony asked his voice uncharacteristically lower than usual.

Looking up in alarm, Clint's usually expressive face blanked completely, devoid of any emotion or feeling. It was a quick change and, if he weren't paying such close attention, Tony probably wouldn't have noticed. He did, though, and Tony was aware that Clint knew it, as well, which was why his face split open in a smile, his stormy-grey eyes remaining blank clouds. "Tony Stark? Worried about me? This is different. Are you okay?"

"I'm serious, Clint."

Only before his best friend could say anything, he happened to glance over his shoulder and then slammed his locker door shut. After muttering a quick 'see you later', Clint turned around and hurried off down the hallway, immediately disappearing in the masses of students who were littering the corridors. Tony didn't even have time to open his mouth and question Clint before he was gone from sight. Turning around, Tony saw nothing out of the ordinary. Besides students who were talking to their friends and getting their books for their next classes, the only other person was the Vice Principal, Phil Coulson.

Storing that … odd … piece of information in the back of his mind, Tony sighed and turned his attention back to Loki, who was –shockingly – smiling and laughing with two girls. He had seen them around and he knew that one of them was Darcy something. He had her once or twice during their time together at Midgard High, but he was unsure of the other girl. He watched them for a few more minutes before Darcy and the other one bid their goodbyes and made their way down the hallway.

Now was his chance.

Falling into step with the new kid, Tony offered his hand, chocolate brown eyes keeping forward. "Tony Stark, and you, my good man, have been making waves for about two weeks now."

Completely caught off guard, Loki didn't even notice Stark's hand as he stumbled to a stop, his emerald green eyes wide as he stared at Tony. "I'm sorry?"

"The entire school has been abuzz with you. I'm sure you already knew that. People here don't know when to stop talking."

"And you're any different?" Loki shot back. He honestly didn't mean it to come out as harsh as it did, but there was something about this Tony Stark that was rather annoying. Tony didn't seem fazed at all by the tone of his voice, however, and simply smiled as Loki continued walking again.

"I just know a thing or two about this and that," Tony made a wave of his hand, as if dismissing the news. Glancing over, Tony couldn't help but notice how lost he looked. With his messenger back slung over his shoulder and his notebook in his arms, Loki kept looking from his schedule to his surroundings, trying to find his next class. Normally, by this time, Tony would have already snatched the schedule from his hands, but there was just something about the way he looked while he was concentrating that was just … intriguing. And it brought to light why he was so fascinating with him in the first place.

Suddenly, Loki stopped walking and turned on Tony. If Tony wasn't watching where he was going, he would have definitely walked right into green eyes. Said eyes were now glaring harshly at him. "Can I help you with something, Stark?"

"Yes, actually, you can," Flashing Loki a charming, Stark-smile Tony put a hand on green eyes' shoulder. "Where is your next class and what are you doing for lunch?"

"I –" Loki started, but stopped when he realized what Tony had just said – asked, to be more specific. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Loki crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you seriously just ask me out?"

"I have to give you credit. You're a lot smarter than the other cookies I confront. But hey, I don't ask out just anybody. You're interesting and I kind of want to figure you out."

"I'm not a puzzle, Stark."

"Tony."

"What?"

"My name is Tony, not Stark … granted that is my last name, but yeah … you catch my drift, don't you, green eyes?"

"Goodbye, Stark," Loki rolled his eyes and continued on down the hall, grateful that Tony wasn't following him this time.

"It's Tony!" Tony shouted after him, ignoring the disapproving looks from the other teachers that were standing in the hall, waiting for the final bell to ring. "And what do you say about that lunch!? Is that a yes!?"

* * *

"The nerve of him," Loki concluded with a huff as he stirred his pudding around in its cup. For the past twenty minutes, Loki had been venting about what had transpired between himself and Tony Stark, and the more he spoke of it, the more annoyed he became. The conversation – no matter how brief – with Stark infuriated him so much, he wasn't even enjoying his pudding. And he ever so much enjoyed his pudding.

"Do you wish for me to strike him down with Mjolnir, brother?" Thor asked, taking a bite of one of his French fries. If anything – and the fact shocked Loki a great deal – Thor looked more amused than anything else. Usually, he was ready to knock heads from shoulders from anyone who agitated Loki in any way.

Shaking his head, Loki sighed into his pudding. "The fact that you've named a hammer you use to work on your car ceases to surprise me," After another moment, Loki put down his spoon, resigned to the fact that the pudding just wasn't going to get eaten anymore. Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't going to get eaten later on that evening – perhaps when he got off of school or after dinner. If there was one thing Loki knew, it was to never, _ever_ waste pudding.

Resting his head on his hand, Loki thought back on the day. It was only noon, but the majourity of the day had been wonderful. It was definitely everything he had hoped. From the very beginning, he had befriended two lovely ladies who were both fun and incredibly entertaining to simply watch when he wasn't feeling like contributing to the conversation. After Homeroom, the last three hours consisted of figuring out where the class was at and what he needed to study to catch up on. And then there was that encounter with Tony Stark and he could immediately feel his blood boiling just when the man came up beside him. A lot of people aggravated Loki, that was no secret, but just the mere look at Tony Stark was enough to anger him. Perhaps it was the cocky attitude, the self-loving, pompous, rich brat personality that was rather annoying. Loki hadn't grown up in that fashion and he couldn't understand how any parent would allow their child to grow up as such, but that wasn't his business.

But then another thought came to mind, and it was enough to almost startle him – he was angry. And he wasn't just angry, he was _angry_. It was the type of anger that usually came before the encounter those two weeks ago. It was that anger that made his blood boil, his face to flush, and his fists to clench tightly into balls at his sides. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like that, and that was relieving …

"Don't worry about it, brother," Loki finally said, folding his arms on top of the table before grabbing a fry from Thor's tray. He nibbled on it before glancing at a clock on the wall. "You need to hurry, Thor. We'll need to get back soon."

"This form is in no need for anymore sustenance," Thor nodded his head and picked up a napkin, wiping his hands and his mouth. He motioned to Loki's schedule, which was lying on the table beside his pudding cup. "What is your next lesson?"

"Oh, um …" Loki picked up the slip, green eyes scanning over the schedule before he stilled, his focus locked on his sixth period class. Without even noticing, his body began to shake, his breath hitching in his throat. When Thor's hand gently covered Loki's, he then slowly came from his panicked state. And when he was finally able to speak, it was a soft tone, barely above a whisper. "Chemistry …"

* * *

_** So, I'm very pleased with this section, though I do feel as though the last one was a bit rushed. Let me know what you think in a review! **_


	3. The Effects of Chemistry

_**Thank you – **__cara-tanaka__**, **__GodsOfMischiefIntellectArts__**, **__Arch-Nemesis__**, **__UnifiedNations__**, **__Quraina__**, **__xXshizayaXx__**, **__LoveIsKneelingToLoki__**, **__Anisney-Robin__**, **__Apathetic Sympathy__**, **__ilvecoffee-n-narutoYOUTH__**, **__Tavish__**, **__Firepawz__**, **__thekelseyrenae__**, **__GreenZebra2795__**, **__Straightjacket__**, and **__SilvertonguedClotpole__** – for your brilliant reviews, as well as my anonymous reviewer! They were all greatly appreciated! I love hearing what you all have to say!**_

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE  
**Effects of Chemistry

It took every ounce of strength Loki possessed to keep himself from running down the hall, down the stairs, and through the front door of Midgard High, not stopping until he was in the safety of his home, locked away in his room where he was positive he would be safe. It took every ounce of strength, but even then, Loki didn't think he would be able to stop himself if his feet started moving on their accord. Out of all things to be similar about, the fact that the Chemistry Wing was towards the back of the building on the second floor, and Loki had to laugh at the irony of the number plaqued to the wall – Room 250. It was a cursed number.

_At the very beginning of the school year – like every year since he started attending – Loki never thought in a million years that a Code Blue alarm would be blaring throughout the halls of Asgard High. _

Shaking his head, trying to clear his head from those nightmarish thoughts, Loki walked the rest of the way to the room and, right before he stepped through the threshold, he just … stopped. It was as though a field had been put in place over the doorway that physically stopped him from entering it. There were several students already inside the room, all seated at tables, talking to their friends or catching up on the assignment that they were supposed to do the night before, none of them even aware of the internal struggle that Loki was going through, the anxiety attack that was sweeping through him, making his entire body shake, his breath coming out in quick, shallow pants. Deep down, he knew that it wasn't the same room, wasn't the same situation, but he couldn't stop himself from panicking, from rethinking what had happened to him just two weeks ago in a Chemistry classroom, of the pain and anguish that it had caused.

_ Icy, pale blue eyes flashed dangerously at Loki's question, his mouth contorting into a feral snarl as he was yanked off of the wall, his left arm wrapping around Loki's torso, trapping his arms at his sides as he was pulled towards the classroom – 250 – across from where they once stood._

He immediately stumbled back until he hit the opposite wall, his heart rate quickening to the point where he could hear it thumping in his ears. His breath came out in quick pants and he hated himself for not holding Thor up on his offer to walk him to class, because he honestly didn't think he was going to be able to make it through the day without completely losing it. Loki could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and God he didn't want to start crying in the middle of the unfamiliar school, surrounded by unfamiliar people on his first day. That was the last thing he needed. But he wanted his brother so badly, and the weak side of him was tempted to grab ahold of the next person to walk past him and demand that they find Thor, that they find his big brother, because all he wanted at that moment was to be told that everything was going to be okay, that nothing or no one could hurt him anymore. But it wasn't okay, nothing was going to be okay, because there were always reminders, always triggers, and nothing would ever be okay until Thor was with him.

Thor wasn't there, though, and Loki had to pull himself together, because he needed to learn to take care of himself, to not become as dependent on his brother as he was now. Pushing the weaker part of himself down, Loki took a shaky breath and took a step towards the classroom, and then another, and another, and all the while he was focusing solely on his breathing, on trying to keep it even, because his heart seriously could not take the panic attack that was slowly starting to form. There was just suddenly too much stress on his shoulders, too much pressure. He was so stupid to think that he was ready, because he honestly wasn't. He couldn't take this fear, and _God_ he hated himself, because it was only one classroom, one room that just so happened to have the same number of –

It was too much. Swallowing down the bile that was slowly starting to creep its way up his throat, Loki spun around and took off down the hallway, running as fast as his shaky legs would carry him. He ran and didn't stop – ran from the classroom, ran from the students and teachers who shouted after him, ran from the fear, ran from the voices inside of his head that were just poking at memories that he so desperately tried to lock away. He couldn't take it, couldn't handle the eyes that were on him. He felt so exposed, like at any second he could be hurt again, but it was a stupid thing to say, because there was no danger – not anymore. He was safe, he was …not believing that for a second. If he was truly safe, would he be feeling so fearful?

_You're afraid, because you are weak. _

The tears immediately welled in his eyes and this time he didn't stop them from falling, didn't stop them from blinding his vision, from running down his face and neck. He was weak. He knew that, had known that the second he realised he wasn't going to be able to stop what had happened to him in that very classroom – 250. If he was strong like his big brother then he wouldn't have gotten trapped, he wouldn't have allowed himself to be in such a compromising position. If he was strong like his big brother then, even if he did get trapped in such a position, he wouldn't still be having nightmares about what happened, wouldn't still have panic attacks in the middle of watching a silly program with his family. But he wasn't like his big brother and he wasn't strong. He was weak, pathetic, little Loki, who hadn't been able to stop crying for two whole weeks. He was weak, pathetic, little Loki who hadn't been able to stop the hell that he was forced into.

He slammed into the door and stumbled only slightly before shoving it open. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to hide, needed to find a safe place where no one would find him until school let out, because there was no way he would be able to make it through the rest of the day in that place. Too many eyes, too many judgmental eyes that silently questioned and poked at what couldn't come out, because he couldn't take it, couldn't handle it, couldn't fathom them knowing, because they would know how weak he was, how utterly helpless and easy and _God, where was Thor_.

Absently, from somewhere in the back of his mind, Loki recognized the layout of the field he was running on, but the only thing he saw were the bleachers – those tall structures that would conceal him, keep him safe, and hide him from the world until Thor found him. He could barely see where he was running, but somehow he was finally under those heavenly barriers, finally he was able to fall to the ground and cry. And he did. Pressing himself against one of the legs, Loki curled up against himself and sobbed violently, his entire body shaking and raking at the sheer force of his cries. He was so scared, so fearful. He hated himself so much for feeling the way he did, for being so weak that he couldn't even console himself. He hated that he needed Thor so damn much, hated that his big brother wasn't there with him right _now_, because all he wanted was to feel safe, and the only way he could feel safe was with Thor, was when he was in those arms, because that had been the only thing that kept the nightmares at bay. For as long as Loki could remember, Thor was the one to chase his monsters away, and he was so afraid that, even though he felt safe in Thor's arms, he feared that his big brother wouldn't be able to vanquish the monster that tore at his heart, threatening to break him entirely.

* * *

Humming softly to himself, Tony walked along the expanse of the football field, his chocolate brown eyes searching. The Chemistry homework he had forgotten to work on – didn't want to work on – from the night before was completely forgotten when he caught sight of a terrified Loki Odinson. He had looked up just in time to see him taking off down the hallway, the Maths textbook he had in his hand had fallen, and for some reason, Tony had immediately gotten up and grabbed it. He didn't know why, but he went back into the classroom while the teacher was talking to a few students at the front, stuffed his belongings – and Loki's textbook – in his bag, and got out of there. Tony would have liked to say that he went to find Loki out of concern, that as a fellow student, he wanted to make sure the new kid felt welcome in his new school, but that would have been a lie. Granted, his behaviour was a peculiar one, after all, none of them knew exactly what had transpired at Asgard High that day two weeks ago, but Tony was more curious than anything else. He loved puzzles, loved the challenge that they created, and he was certain that Loki would be a damn good puzzle to crack.

What he didn't expect, however, was to hear the sound of crying underneath the bleachers, and as he furrowed his brow and followed the sound, he was shocked to find Loki sitting in the dirt, curled up against one of the legs, completely oblivious to the world around him, crying. He didn't know what to do. His first instinct was to get the hell out of there, because Tony Stark was not one for dealing with feelings. He had a strict no-showing-emotion policy that he had implemented the second he broke up with his first girlfriend when he was six-years old, and he found that it was the best policy he ever created, because he had – to this day – absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do. It was awkward and it was messy and those were two things Tony was not. But for some reason, as he stood there listening to Loki crying, his legs just … wouldn't work. The message from his brain to his limbs just wasn't connecting, and as the paranoia of possibly having to address this situation somehow started to suffocate him, he kind of found that he … didn't really … want to leave. He frowned at the sight of Loki, at how his body shook so violently, it was a wonder he hadn't hurt himself. He honestly looked like he was falling apart – and for all Tony knew, he _was_ falling apart – and he realised that there was no way he could leave him in such a state. He might not have much feeling inside of him, but he wasn't completely heartless.

He sighed softly to himself and slowly made his way over to where Loki was sitting, being mindful to not get too close. Something told him that Loki would not take it too well if he was to touch him or get in his personal space and the last thing he wanted was to get his eyes scratched out or something. So he kept his distance, choosing instead to plop down on his bag against the leg closest to Loki, his fingers tapping out a nameless tune against his knee. He had no idea how long he was going to be sitting there, so he might as well get some sort of entertainment out of it. That nameless tune soon turned out to be a song from one of Tony's favourite movies, though, and he eventually found himself humming '_Rue's Lullaby'_ from The Hunger Games. He would never admit that it was one of his favourite movies, mostly, because it had sentimental reasons behind it. And remember – Tony doesn't do sentiment. But mostly, he enjoyed the movie, because it reminded him of a summer he shared with Clint. The two had begged Tony's uncle, Jarvis, to take them to archery lessons, because it looked so cool. Naturally, Tony sucked at that, but he enjoyed sitting back and watching Clint shoot the arrows just as well as the teachers. He remembered it perfectly, because that summer Clint was having trouble at home, and the second they got on that field and started shooting those arrows, he smiled.

A hiccup pulled Tony out of his non-sentimental thoughts, and he turned his head slightly in Loki's direction, watching him out of the corner of his eye. His hands were shaking badly, but he seemed to finally notice that he wasn't alone. Those hands wiped away the tears that streaked down his face and neck, and Tony tried not to notice how flushed his face was, how glassy his emerald green eyes were, how _haunted_ he looked. Instead, he chose to be silent, and watched as Loki pulled himself together. He wouldn't speak first and he wouldn't try to initiate a conversation. He would simply wait.

* * *

"W-what are you doing here?" Loki finally asked his voice just as shaky as the rest of his body. He had no idea how long Tony Stark had been sitting under the bleachers with him, but he certainly didn't like it. He felt embarrassed at being found – and being found in such a state! He could only image what the other was thinking.

Instead of asking why he was crying, why he was acting so pathetic, why he was cowering under the freaking bleachers, Loki watched as Tony shrugged his shoulders, rolling his head back to face forward, his eyes falling shut once more. "You dropped your book. I thought I would be a Good-Samaritan and return it to you," He paused before adding as an afterthought: "You'll have to wait, though, because it's currently my pillow. These are really nice jeans and I would hate to get dirt and shit on them."

His mouth opened automatically to reply, but Loki merely blinked, dumbfounded. Something wasn't right with that. Why wasn't he questioning him? Was that not the first logical thing to ask when someone was crying – _are you alright, what's wrong, is there anything I can do to help?_ But Stark wasn't asking any of those things. He was just sitting there with his eyes closed, not even paying attention to him, and Loki felt annoyed and embarrassed and angry and … grateful … He wasn't asking the questions he couldn't bear to handle, he was staring at him with judgmental eyes. He was just … there …

"You're skipping class," He found himself finally saying, his emerald green eyes not once leaving Tony. He seemed harmless, but that didn't mean he was.

Smiling, Tony shrugged his shoulders once more. "And you're doing any different?"

"Why are you skipping?"

"I already told you," Tony opened his eyes and looked over at Loki. Though he was still shaking like a leaf and still had tears falling silently down his face – he didn't seem to notice he was still crying – Loki wasn't having a complete break-down. And though he didn't come to necessarily calm him down, Tony did feel better knowing that his presence was helping some. He closed his eyes once more and faced forward. "I'm returning your book."

"You'll get in trouble."

"Aw, you do care, Stitch," Tony smirked and looked at him again. "I knew you did."

Narrowing his eyes, Loki angrily wiped at the tears that simply refused to stop falling and crossed his arms over top his knees, turning his head away from that arrogant look on Stark's face. Could he not tell that he wasn't in the mood for such games? He didn't say anything in reply, merely glared at the ground, at an innocent pebble that had the unfortunate luck at being beside his foot. Stark said nothing, either, and he would be damned if he said anything back at him. No one asked him to be there to begin with. So instead, Loki counted and counted some more, and continued to count until he finally heard movement from beside him. He didn't look up, choosing instead to glare at the pebble until it shook under his gaze.

"Alright, alright," Tony sighed dramatically, stretching his sore muscles. Had he really been sitting there for twenty minutes? "I can tell when I'm not wanted. I'll cough loudly if I see any teachers while I'm walking back to the school. You stay sexy, green eyes."

His jaw dropped before he could command himself not to react, his head shooting up from where it rested on his arms, but before he could even think about dignifying that response with an answer, Stark had walked out from under the bleachers and was making his way back towards the school, a proud look on his face. He didn't move from his position for a few minutes, the anger inside of him building at what Stark had just said to him. The nerve! Did he talk to all of the students like that or was he just trying to get a reaction out of the new kid? Loki didn't know and he didn't want to find out. Huffing in annoyance, Loki shook his head and turned his head away from where Tony was just run into the school. The fool said he was returning his book, but from what Loki could tell, he ran off with it.

Minutes went by and Loki found that he was simply numb. The tears had slowly ceased to fall, but now his face itched from where some of the streaks dried. He paid it no mind, though, as he turned his attention back to the pebble that resided beside his foot. He stared at it … and stared at it … and soon he felt the tears welling up once more, because what he saw wasn't a pebble at all. That was an innocent pebble that he had abused just minutes earlier. The pebble didn't choose to be there – it was just dumb luck that it found himself sitting beside Loki's shoe, taking the full force of the glare that was directed upon it for no reason whatsoever. But that pebble was him, though, wasn't it? Did Loki deserve what happened to him? The sob ripped from him before he even realised that it had been working its way up his throat, and he started crying once more. His throat hurt, ached from the constant strain his despair put it through, but he couldn't stop. He felt so stupid, so utterly ridiculous for comparing himself to a _pebble_. Was he purposely doing this to himself – trying to find reasons to victimize himself and what he went through? Was he that weak? Thor wouldn't be so weak.

_Where was Thor?_

* * *

He didn't know why, but somewhere between the school and halfway down the field, Tony felt … off … as though maybe he shouldn't have left as soon as he did. He didn't know why he felt that way. He thought that Loki was pulling himself together when he left, but the second that thought went through his mind, Tony chided himself for his stupidity. Of _course_, Loki wasn't alright. He couldn't pull himself together and continue on with the rest of his day just like that. He had no idea why he was crying, but with how violently his body shook and how pained those sobs were, whatever he was crying about had something to do with what happened to him at Asgard High, about what happened to him those two short weeks ago. Leaving wasn't the right thing to do, because even though he might have put pause to his suffering, the second he left, he allowed Loki's thoughts to go back to what happened.

Keeping a tight hold of his bag, Tony took off towards the school. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing or not by doing this, but he wouldn't be able to get Loki off of his mind if he didn't – he needed to find the brother. Maybe if he did that, Thor would go check on him to see if he was okay and, if he wasn't, he could console him. He would probably do a much better job than Tony.

It was sheer luck that Tony looked into the library at the second he did, because Thor vanished from view a few seconds after he looked in. He threw the door library open, the sound of it bouncing against the wall, shocking everyone in the vicinity. The librarian may or may not have said anything, but Tony wasn't listening. The run towards the school and through the hallways had taken its toll of Tony – _God, was he that out of shape?_ His eyes were solely on Thor's, who looked up in alarm, the sound obviously jarring him from his thoughts. After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, Tony stumbled into the library, grabbed a hold of Thor's arm, tossed the book out of his hand and onto the nearest table, and yanked him out of the room.

Before Thor could open his mouth to question what the bloody hell was going on, Tony shook his head and rushed him towards the side door he had just came from. "Ask questions later, big guy. Loki is under the bleachers."

The alarm in his voice must have been noticeable – even though Tony was trying hard to mask that – because Thor's eyes flashed in worry and, with speed Tony didn't know any man possessed, he was running down the field. He watched him go from where he stood. He leaned against the doorway and bit his bottom lip, hoping that he had done the right thing, hoping that Thor would be able to fix whatever was wrong.

He hoped that he would be able to get his mind off of what happened, because he honestly couldn't get those big, emerald green eyes out of his head.

* * *

He was weak. He was pathetic. He was stupid. Why was he still crying? Had he not cried enough? Why did they have to put him in that classroom? Had they not read the papers? Surely they should have known that it wouldn't have boded well for him after –

Gasping for the air he couldn't seem to possess, Loki somehow managed to get on shaky feet, his legs wobbling fiercely. He felt like he was suffocating. The safety of the bleachers was no longer doing its job. He didn't feel safe anymore. Maybe if he could just –

His legs couldn't hold him up anymore. When he fell to the ground, Loki didn't try to get up anymore, because there would honestly be no point. He wasn't strong enough to move. But if he couldn't move then he wouldn't be able to get to Thor, _and God he needed to get to Thor, because Thor was the only one who would be able to fix this, he would be the only one to take away the –_

Through the panicked haze and the blur of tears, Loki found himself looking up, and what he saw brought about another sob, because what stood before him was his beacon, was the only thing in the world that could make him feel safe in a world that was dark and cruel. When Thor dropped to his knees beside Loki, when Thor whispered his name, he found himself scrambling to close the few feet in between them, because God, he needed to feel that safety. He needed those arms wrapped around him, blanketing him, protecting him. And they did. And they felt wonderful. And he continued to cry, partially, because of the fear, partially, because of self-deprecation, partially, because he was weak and pathetic and stupid, but mostly out of sheer relief, because now he didn't feel so vulnerably.

Because in his brother's arms, he finally found the peace and strength he needed to pick himself back up again.

* * *

_** I really, really hope you guys haven't abandoned me yet, though I'm sure you feel like I did you. I cannot express how sorry I am that it has taken me so long to update this story. Know that I am not giving up on it, that I haven't forgotten it. I have so many plans for this story. **_

_** Please review, tell me how this was, curse me for taking so long, and threaten me to attempt to update on a semi-regular basis. Please and thank you. **_


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